Poland 1944
The hard, cold rain pounded out of the sky, soaking clothes, changing the dirt to slippery mud, beating the life and hope out of everyone it touched.
A green hedgehog called Scourge Lehnsherr stood in the mud beside his parents, his coat wet clear through to his shirt, his small hand grasping the back of his father's wool trousers just above the knee. His child's eyes were wide at what was happening around him. His mother and father, both strong and sturdy people, held him close, tried to comfort him, shelter him, but the events of that hour were like the rain: impossible to avoid.
The mass of people scared him, making him want to run away. The guards made him want to cry. But he did neither. Instead he focused on the twisting spirals of barbed wire that covered the tops of the fences in front of and around them. Through the rain the points of the wire seemed to sparkle, calling out to him.
Suddenly the German guards shoved everyone forward, making them walk between two tall wire fences with more twisting barbed wire lining the top. Scourge didn't want to stare at all the miserable faces staring at them from the other side of the fences. Those people were all terribly miserable and fatigued, and many were crying as the watched. Some clutched their arms, as if trying to cover the numbers that had been tattooed there.
Instead he traced the curved barbed wire and it's shining points as he and his parents continued, slowly moving forward. It was as if that wire were his only friend in this hostile, miserable place.
At one point he slipped in the mud, but his father held him up. His mother clutched both him and his father. Together they moved almost as one, following the wet rows of people in front of them, trying not to pay attention to the guards.
Scourge told himself that he would be strong, like his parents, strong like the wire. Ahead of them people were screaming now, and Scourge didn't want to get any closer, but his father and the guards moved them along, without saying a word. The people behind them crowded in tight, sometimes bumping him. A stoat woman behind Scourge was crying softly.
The barbed wire on the top of the fence seemed to spin along with them, twisting and sparkling in the hard rain. There had always been something about metal that he loved. The fence and the sharp points of the wire didn't seem dangerous to him. He wished instead that he could climb up there and touch them.
Suddenly, ahead of them, the people moved out of the way, and from where he stood Eric could see that the path turned into two paths, both of which were lined with tall weaved – wire fences. The guards were opening and closing the gates as people went through. A big dog guard in a German uniform shoved into them poking at Scourge's mother with a rife, speaking much too fast for Scourge to understand. His father understood, though, and shook his head. "No." His mother held onto Scourge even tighter, so tight that Scourge thought his bones would break.
The guard poked at them with the rife and began shouting. Scourge clung onto his father, not knowing what is happening, but something inside him told him that it wasn't good. Then his mother sceamed "No!" His father said again.
Suddenly two more German guards appeared out of nowhere, and yanked Scourge away from his parents. With a quick turn they shoved him along after the other children who were being pushed and carried down one of the paths between rows of fences. Many of the children were screaming and shouting and crying, others were strangely quiet. The guards turned their attention to Scourge's parents and shoved them down another path. Scourge started back to them, crying now. He wasn't going to leave them. He wasn't! They couldn't make him!
But the two guards picked him up and carried him back along the fenced path, their hands were rough and hurt his skin through his wet coat. He kicked at them, screamed at them, but they were ignored him. They took hu through the weaved barbed wire gate and closed it. He could still see his parents though the gate his mother reaching put for him despite the restraint of a guard, screaming his name. His father just stood there, a guard's rife pointed at his chest. Scourge tried to fight his way to them, but the guards wouldn't let him down.
He glanced at the fence, and a thought flashed across his mind. He needed to be like metal, heavier. He needed to me much, much heavier, so that the guards can't carry him anymore!
His feet touched the ground, and he planted them hard in the mud, focused on stopping. He wasn't going anywhere without his parents. He as going to rip down the fence between them, so they could go with him. He focused all his anger and fear at the wire gate, and it started to shake. The guards pulled at him, but now they couldn't move him, he was like the heaviest of metals, too heavy for the guards to budge. They yanked on his arms, hurting him even more, but he didn't care. He wouldn't go with them, not without his parents. He too a step back towards his parents.
He took a step back towards his parents, dragging the guards in the mud with him. The metal gate twisted and bent in front of him. Some of the strands of barbed wire began breaking, like weak string. Scourge knew that gate couldn't stop him. One guard tried to pick him up and failed, swearing so fast that Scourge didn't understand. All Scourge wanted was to tear down the fence and let his parents come with him. If the Germans wanted him, then his parents would have to come too.
Another guard came up, swearing loudly at the other two guards.
Scourge just focused on the fence, ripping it apart, making it go away. The coiled strands of sparking barbed wire along the top started to uncurl, whipping about in the air like angry serpents. The entire compound suddenly got very quiet, only the sound of the rain can be heard, pounding in the mud accented by the snaps of the breaking wire.
More and more strands broke, and the entire weaved – wire fated bowed towards Scourge. It was as if something massive pushed from the other side. Suddenly the rain stopped hitting Scourge as the third guard loomed over him. The other two were still pulling on Scourge's arms, futilely, hurting hum making him madder and madder. And the angrier that Scourge got, the more the gate and the fences shook and broke apart. The new guard swore again, then raised his rife. Scourge could hear his mother's scream cut through the silence and the rain. His father took a step toward him, wide eyed, only to be stopped. Then the butt of the guard's rife came down hard. For an instant – just and instant – the wonderful feeling of metal closed in around him as he slumped into the mud. The last thing that Scourge saw was the gate falling, his parents on the other side, trying to get to him, held back by the guards. It was an image that he took down into blackness. It was the last time he saw his father, and his mother would die 45 minutes later.